


Not So Dull Meeting

by stickyrice



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF Anthea (Sherlock), BAMF Mycroft, F/M, Fluff, Romance, mythea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 00:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9295670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickyrice/pseuds/stickyrice
Summary: A not so dull meeting after all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing that's why I have to toil away at my 9-5 for a mere pittance

If it wasn’t for the image that came with being the assistant to Mycroft Holmes, she would have been slouched in her chair half asleep already. This conference was another example of old, stuffy shirt individuals with too much power and too much time on their hands; she would have gladly watched paint dry or grass grow instead of listening to these dim witted individuals drone on and on about things that they had lost touch (assuming they even had) with a long time ago.

She turned her gaze over to her boss to see if he was fairing any better than her. To the casual observer, it would appear that he was deep in thought, but knowing him as she does, she could tell that his minds eyes were glazed over and he was a million miles away, not that he was not acutely aware of everything around him.

It was because of her close scrutiny of him that she had those few precious seconds to react. The way his eyes snapped to hers and flashed with worry, then quickly changed to an anticipated glee, she was able to quickly duck under the table before all hell broke loose.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Bits of plaster and dust were raining down on them, obscuring their vision and making it more difficult to breath. They were crouched side by side just below a brick wall that had its upper portion torn right off. Sirens could be heard in the distance, and the sound of approaching feet, in their estimation, gave them approximately 3 minutes to arm themselves, survey the room, and come up with an appropriate plan of action, and with the brain of a Holmes, easily done in a minute at most.

Popping his head up into the opening in the wall and took in anything that they might use to their advantage. She spots an unused smoke bomb canister on the belt of a downed assailant not too far away and retrieves it.

They both resumed their crouched position sitting on the floor, their backs to the wall, and take a moment to look at each other, assessing any damage or hesitation on the other. Seeing none they give the other a curt nod as if to say _ready or not here we come._  

He gives her a slight smile; a sort of manic, charged energy shining in his eyes.  A death wish, he did not have, however the rush of danger, adrenaline that it caused made his eyes sparkle and flash in excitement. One would never have guessed it from his outward appearance, but the Holmes brothers were more alike than not in this regard.

In a hushed whisper he details his plan to her. She holds up the unused canister to him and he can’t help but grin.

The heavy foot falls were getting closer; maybe 6 or 7 assailants, but they were slow and pause often. He can’t help but watch her as she adjusts the rather large knife strapped to her thigh and secures the vest under her shirt to fit more snugly. A groan almost bubble up past his lips as he watches the light glint off the blade of her knife, bright and dangerous, in contrast to the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

He didn’t notice her hands still until now, and he reluctantly drags his eyes up to meet hers. She had been watching him, watching her.

Her heart was beating so hard that she thought that it might burst through her chest; she could practically feel the heat in his gaze burning up along her body as his eyes dragged up to meet hers. His pupils were blown wide and there was an excitement, a fierceness that she had never seen before, that made her unconsciously lick her lips in anticipation.

With one hand behind her neck, he quickly brought his lips crashing down on hers. Threading her hand into his hair, she pulls him closer still. The force of their kiss bruising and sharp; it ended as quickly as it started, leaving them panting; their breathing shallow and fast.

The crunch of glass underfoot almost made him growl out loud at being interrupted. With a sharp nip to her bottom lip and a pointed, heated look that promised a later, he cocked his gun and reluctantly dragged his eyes away from her.

With eyes wild and filled with a glee, that would have him under heavy psych evaluation before you could even say MI-6, he put the pin between his teeth, gave her a quick wink and grin before the thick spirals of smoke filled the room. The only thing to be heard was surprised shouts that were quickly silenced by their bodies hitting the floor.

Even above the crack of gun fire and screams, she tracks his movement around the room from the distinct sound of his foot falls that she has come to know; they are quick and light as they dance around the room with deadly precision. She can just image his skilled hands at work bringing death and destruction to those who dared cross his path; her body gave a small shiver, her minding drifting to the image of his skilled hands delicately tracing the curve of her breast, her hips, her most intimate areas. His hands were one of the many things she loved about him.

The last assailant, fear etched into his every feature, squared off with Mycroft; his hands trembled as he held up a small feeble knife. Mycroft stood facing the man, his arms casually at his sides, staring him straight in the eyes, or so it would seem, a playful smirk about his lips.  

She held his gaze steadily as she crept up behind the frightened man; a wicked smile that would match his own danced across her lips. There really was something about bloodshed that made her blood rush and her skin tingle. Striking out with her heeled foot to the back of the assailants’ knee sent the man crumpling to the floor, but before he was even able to utter a cry of surprise her blade neatly sliced across his neck with barely any resistance.

Eyes never leaving hers he strides over to her with quick measured steps. Grasping her wrist none to gentle, the sound of the knife hitting the floor is the only other sound in the room besides their harsh breaths. He pushes her hard against the wall, the soft thud of her body hitting the wall echoes in the room. Reaching out to him, she grabs the lapels of his jacket and roughly hauls him to her; their bodies colliding with urgency.

He presses the length of his body against hers; she can feel the taunt muscles under his suite ripple with the barest of constraint. Gathering her hands in one of his, he pins them above her head as he angles his head and brings his lips gently down to hers; a whisper of a touch that has her straining against him.

With an impatient growl she bucks her hips up against him. Groaning,  he couldn’t help but ground his hips against her; swallowing her gasp in a heated open mouth kiss that soon turned hungry and frenzied with lips and teeth clashing, and tongues battling for dominance.

The sound of not so distance sirens brought them out of their heated embrace; both gasping for breath and more than a little disheveled. Foreheads resting against each other, they took steadying breaths; it wouldn’t do for the British Government to be seen in such a state. Tugging at clothing and smoothing down hair, the pair tried to make themselves as presentable as could be. Sharing one more look of promise, they were soon surrounded by emergency response teams taking in the brutal sight before them wide eyed.

Picking up his discarded umbrella and hooking it on the crook of his arm, he gestured her forward. Casually the pair strolled out the door as if they were just leaving another boring meeting.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [London Yankee](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9635576) by [FourCornersHolmes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourCornersHolmes/pseuds/FourCornersHolmes)




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